as he had before in the parlor in Mount Vernon Street.
He could but stop in the face of such an appeal--and yet the blood beat
in his head with a mad joy.

"Tell me that you love me,--once," he cried,--"once, Cynthia."

"Do-do not ask me," she faltered. "Go."

Her words were a supplication, not a command. And in that they were a
supplication he had gained a victory. Yes, though she had striven with
all her might to deny, she had bade him hope. He left her without so much
as a touch of the hand, because she had wished it. And yet she loved him!
Incredible fact! Incredible conjury which made him doubt that his feet
touched the snow of Brampton Street, which blotted, as with a golden
glow, the faces and the houses of Brampton from his sight. He saw no one,
though many might have accosted him. That part of him which was clay,
which performed the menial tasks of his being, had kindly taken upon
itself to fetch his bag from the house to the station, and to board the
train.

Ah, but Brampton had seen him!

CHAPTER XIV

Great events, like young Mr. Worthington's visit to Brampton, are all
very well for a while, but they do not always develop with sufficient
rapidity to satisfy the audiences of the drama. Seven days were an
interlude quite long enough in which to discuss every phase and bearing
of this opening scene, and after that the play in all justice ought to
move on. But there it halted--for a while--and the curtain obstinately
refused to come up. If the inhabitants of Brampton had only known that
the drama, when it came, would be well worth waiting for, they might have
been less restless.

It is unnecessary to enrich the pages of this folio with all the
footnotes and remarks of, the sages of Brampton. These can be condensed
into a paragraph of two--and we can ring up the curtain when we like on
the next scene, for which Brampton had to wait considerably over a month.
There is to be no villain in this drama with the face of an Abbe Maury
like the seven cardinal sins. Comfortable looking Mr. Dodd of the
prudential committee, with his chin-tuft of yellow beard, is cast for the
part of the villain, but will play it badly; he would have been better
suited to a comedy part.

Young Mr. Worthington left Brampton on the five o'clock train, and at six
Mr. Dodd met his fellow-member of the committee, Judge Graves.

"Called a meetin'?" asked Mr. Dodd, pulling the yellow tuft.

"What for?" said the judge, sharply.